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Poetry

    BLUE FOX SEATS by Terry Brinkman

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    Alabaster Breast Milk Ilk Horns Dragon-Lilies Zodiac redemptionIrish wine Brandy sniffer graceShe’ll be back in a flashLimp as a wet rag looking at her facePollenate paraphernalia paper trashAlabaster Breast...

    NEON MARMALADE by Alex Hand

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    A stained glass imaginingFrom the third floor the treetops are filigree fine,emergent tendrils nod frantic nervousnessin the ethereal breath of a gossamer breeze.Lace leaves play like piano fingerscaught by ripples from whipish...

    A COLUMN OF SMOKE by Sally Sandler

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    A Column of Smoke ghosted west to the seaand I missed my off ramp like most of the otherswho prayed to the fire gods

    A POEM FOR THE WIND by Lynn Dowless

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    A Poem for the wind When the veil of darkness finally descends,and that light within us diminishes,perfect peace and contentment shall stand for eternity then,when our days on earth...

    NOTICING WOMEN by Madlynn Haber

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    Noticing Women I am not the woman in the front row staring with adoring eyes at the poet,her husband, on the stage behind the podium, reading from his collection.

    MASQUERADE by Cynthia Warrington

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    MASQUERADE: This Face I wear to show what the world expects to see,a carefully painted visage rendered in muscles strainedand emotions held in check. These garments...

    FLAME DIVINE by Nardine Saric

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    Flame divine. ( Read both ways bottom too top also) Cover me in loves sweet notes for all that sound does travel well And in my heart, I felt each feather So softly I had fell -...

    GODDESS by Celine Low

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    Goddess She was a goddess in his eyes when he did not know her. She knew marriage would take her off the pedestal but hoped desire and love could learn to live on levelled ground. But when pedestal crumbled where...

    A GATEKEEPER’S VIGIL by Helen Sokolsky

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    A GATEKEEPER’S VIGIL I wander through carpets of heather and primrose leaving behind a discordant arena my salve is found locked in this garden where a single flower can restore the soul no strife present in this cloister...

    THE CANYON by Daniel Senser

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    The Canyon Over the course of eons, the flow of water Has shaped the stone, The sharp edges smoothed and rounded By the water’s constant flow. To weep is an honest exclamation, A reclamation of the soul. The rock is old...